The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 41
“Hard to say. But we saw no such ships.”
Abrensi clicked his tongue. “If the weather worsens quickly, the invasion may not eventuate.”
Holindo crossed his arms. “There’s no guarantee of that – we may have as little as a week to finalise the city’s defences.”
Seto frowned into his fire-lemon. “And I find myself unconvinced yet.”
“Sire?” Solicci asked.
“Again, I feel Renovar has nothing to gain by invading, and everything to lose. None of our investigations have borne fruit yet. Our envoy will not send word back for weeks, and that is only if they survive the seas. I fear we do not have all the pieces.”
“Doubtless not. But we cannot fail in our preparations.”
“Certainly.” He tented his fingers. “I will see Ambassador Lallor again.”
A page appeared. He cleared his throat, glancing at the assembled dignitaries. “Your Majesty, Luik and Flir have returned.”
“See them in,” Seto said.
Flir strode into the room, dressed in her street clothes, face smudged and hands filthy. Luik appeared somewhat cleaner, having taken the trouble to wipe his face it seemed.
“Well, we found another one.” Flir slumped into a chair. “Every time I think we’ve found the last, there’s another. It’s beyond dozens now.” Seto schooled his features. Some of the council, especially Nemola, had yet to grow accustomed to Flir’s casual attitude. It was a blessing, really, no-where else in the palace could he get such directness.
“And it is neutralised?”
“Drowned it. The powder’s useless now.”
Luik nodded. “We tested it after, like the others and it wouldn’t catch. Pevin was right again.”
Flir sighed at mention of Pevin, but continued. “This one was by the First Tier wall. We should have been more thorough there.”
“I will put people on it immediately,” Seto said.
Solicci leant forward. “I still wonder why there have been no more explosions. If Pevin is correct, and more deposits exist, why not explode them?”
“They’re waiting for numbers and co-ordination?” Holindo said.
Seto took another drink. “That’s what I believe. Vinezi is scrambling to gather more recruits and cannot act as he wishes.”
“Or they’re waiting for the invasion, to have a simultaneous strike,” Flir said. “That’s how I’d do it.”
Silence fell over the council room. Seto stood, pacing by the fire again. She was correct. He should have seen it himself, but with so much on his plate, a buffet of troubles, really, he was half-blind. “Certainly we will address that too.” Seto paused. “I think that will be all for today’s meeting.”
Nemola rose halfway in his seat. “But Your Majesty, the matter of the deposits in the palace remains.”
Captain Holindo added his own voice. “And the corpse of the Sea Beast.”
Seto nodded. “Captain, remain with me. Councillors, I appreciate your time but that will be all. Nemola, we search the palace periodically, as you know.”
The men filed out, Solicci bowing deepest. Neither Flir nor Luik moved, seated near the Captain. “To my rooms.” Seto strode into the corridor without waiting to see if they followed. The Queen’s Harper was in need of attention too. The palace would swallow him if he let it. Too many people depending on him – as the Water Rat – to let that happen. “And I won’t have it,” he muttered beneath his breath.
Seto passed tall statues of the Ocean Gods, their oft-times aggressive poses a stark reminder of Anaskari history. A bloody one, but then, what nation wasn’t steeped in blood? Seto murmured a greeting to the group of Shields at his chamber door and wove through a gaudy room of orange and silver to a large sitting chamber. Three chairs surrounded a small table, its bone inlay depicting ships cresting waves.
He lowered himself into the deepest chair, stretching his legs out on a footrest. Behind him, a low fire crackled from a hearth.
“Where are you, Seto?” It was Flir, from another room.
Captain Holindo cleared his throat. “King Oseto, My Lady.”
“Thanks, but I’m hardly a Lady, Holindo.”
Luik’s head poked around the door. “In here,” he called over his shoulder. The mercenary-turned-chef took a chair. Flir was next, slipping into the final chair, leaving Holindo to stand. He glanced at the seating arrangement, but said nothing. Seto noted Flir and Luik grinning at one another.
“I am considering taking one other into our confidence,” Seto announced.
Flir rested her feet on the table’s crossbeam. “In regards to harvesting the Beast?”
“Sire, I hope it is not Solicci you are considering.”
“No, Captain. I am watching that one.”
“It still galls me. Had I known what Cera and he were up to –” he began.
Seto held up a hand. “You have established your trustworthiness, my good man.”
He bowed.
“Who then?” Luik asked.
“Lavinia.”
“A logical choice.”
Seto tented his fingers. “Indeed. I believe she can offer insights on the Beast. I remember some considerable lore had been gathered by her father. The Storm Singers have a long history with the Beast that we ought to draw upon.”
“Sounds good,” Luik said.
Flir shook her head. “Only if she keeps her secrets.”
“What do you mean?” Luik asked.
“Abrensi. I don’t know about him.”
Seto murmured his agreement. “I may visit him first. Assess him.”
“My Liege?”
“Yes, Holindo?”
“Can I offer a suggestion? I know it’s not my place to do so.”
“Do so, please.”
“Demand to see the Storm Singer’s knowledge. You are, after all, King,” he rasped. “It is your right.”
Seto gave a rueful smile. “So it is. But I wish to make allies, rather than resentful subjects.”
“Of course, sire.”
“And how goes the management of the corpse?”
“There have been no more attacks but the stench is horrific. The people protest and there have been two riots in the last week. I’ve tripled the Vigil, and boosted the presence of Mascare and Shield.” He paused to drink from a glass on the table when his voice became strained. “Tensions are high. I fear there is risk of disease. It has to be controlled and I’m speaking with the healers and priests about how to do it.”
“Good. And the actual harvesting?”
“The work is difficult and slow. We lost another man to the poison.”
“That’s ten so far,” Luik said quietly.
Seto frowned. One was too many, but the beast was both too dangerous and too valuable. It had to be harvested. And kept out of unsavoury hands. “And the bones we have freed?”
“The first quarter of the beast has yielded well over a dozen wagon loads, all stored beneath the palace as requested.”
“Very well. What else do you require?”
“I have a report in my quarters, should I find it, Sire?”
“Yes.”
Holindo slipped from the room and Seto straightened on the chair. “Luik, have you filled Flir in on our discovery?”
“I have. She wanted to see for herself.”
“It’s him.”
“I know, Flir. What I wish to know, is what it means. The man you deposited at the jail is the same man I captured, the same one I saw in the palace, the same man Notch saw outside the inn and also the man Luik followed from the explosion in the market. At most of those appearances, he would have been dead.”
She threw up her hands. “He’s a ghost.”
“A twin, Seto,” Luik said. “A brother with a close resemblance.”
He sighed. “And I favour a fake, a decoy. Either way, we need to find Vinezi, or whoever he is, soon. I don’t want another explosion.”
“Any ideas?”
“Yes. One I should have implemented weeks ago. I blame myself of course, I shouldn’t have let the palace take up so much of my attention. I honestly felt Luik would find him,” he held up a hand at Luik’s expression, “by which I mean, that Vinezi wouldn’t have been so crafty. We had him beaten and his network smashed. I should have immediately engaged the people of the street through my own contacts.”
“How much could you cover?”
Seto considered it. “The whole of the Lower Tier and good portions of the Second.”
“Really?” Flir said.
“I don’t mean I have so many men, you know that. Rather, I could place someone or contact informants and exploit relationships, and have eyes where we need them. It would be a complete mobilisation, to the detriment of other...projects, but I suspect we have no choice.”
“Off to the inn then?” Luik said.
“Indeed.”
Chapter 6
Sofia shivered beneath Osani as the forest closed around her. Woody scents mixed with the faint rot of loam stirred by hooves. Notch led his own horse through the trees, finding a thin path in the dying light. She patted her mare’s neck, keeping close behind.
The trickle of water over stone grew. “How did you know where it was?” she asked.
Notch didn’t turn. “I’ve travelled the Bloodwood several times, remember.”
“And when will we reach Irihs?”
He stopped at the edge of the small stream. It cut deep into the earth, running clear over stone. His mount bent her head to drink. “Before noon tomorrow. Earlier if we push on, but I think we should camp here.”
Her own horse drank. “Here? We should keep going a little further, shouldn’t we?” In the failing light, with only a blush of colour in the distance through the western tree line and Notch’s face a pale blur, there seemed little to recommend it as a site, aside from the stream.
“We have water and space here. And we’re not visible from the road.” He picketed his mount to a tree. The harness jingled in the evening hush. “I know you want to hurry, but by now, anything that has happened to your father has already happened.”
Sofia swallowed. He was right, but it didn’t change anything. Father still needed her. “That’s not reassuring, Notch.”
“I know, I’m sorry. But it’s safer to travel by day. And we need to stay safe if we’re to help the Lord Protector.”
“Safe from what? Bandits?”
“They are rare here but other things too. Simpler ones. Like injuring a horse in the dark. And Seto would have sent people to round us up, you can bet on that.” He rubbed the horse’s neck. “And then there’s always the chance that some aggressive Braonn might take exception to our passage. I’d rather post a watch than stumble into something.”
“I know there’s going to be hostility, but are the Braonn truly likely to attack us?”
“I don’t know. The deeper we end up, the higher the risk. Not everyone in the south is happy with the remnants of our rule.”
“I know that.”
“But you haven’t seen it here. Without Luik or the caravan, there were places I might have been attacked or worse. It wasn’t so many years ago.”
“And my father?”
“He probably faced the same threats. I don’t know.”
“How far have you been into the wood?”
“To a section of the forest which conceals the First Tree. Luik took me to its borders, but not inside. No Anaskari are permitted inside its groves.”
“I hope we won’t have to travel so far.” She tied her own horse.
“Me too.” He said. “I’ll dig a fire pit – why don’t you find fuel. Fallen wood only,” he added.
Sofia hesitated.
“Make sure you get twigs and logs. Search the undergrowth for dry wood.”
She nodded and moved between the trees in the dying light, reaching through the damp undergrowth to first collect twigs, then small branches and larger ones, holding them in the crook of her arm. Something rustled leaves in the distance and she flinched, losing a log. She snatched it up with a growl. Stupid. Afraid of the dark, Sofia?
Back in the camp she placed the pile beside Notch’s own. He looked up from where he knelt, tinderbox in hand.
“I don’t know, is this enough?” she said.
Notch chuckled. “It’s fine.”
“Stop that. How would I know?”
“Sorry.” He began arranging the kindling in a tent formation, twigs beneath sticks and the bigger branches atop. He struck the flint, sending sparks into the dark until a tongue of flame grew. He kept feeding twigs, some barely thicker than a hair, to the small blaze and eventually the fire took hold.
“There.” He stood, fetching a pan from the packs, which he rinsed in the stream before placing it beside her. Next he took a short bow and several arrows from where they were slung across the saddle. “How about rabbit? Or something with meat on its bones at least.”
She held her hands out to the fire. “Yes, please.”
Notch’s footsteps, light as they were, faded into the trees. She removed Osani to wipe at her face. It wasn’t long before she was blinking away a blurring of her vision. Her pulse had crept up again and a tremble snuck into her hands. She muttered a curse. Back already? The lenasi cravings barely gave her any respite. Damn Miandra and damn Tantos again. She replaced Osani.
Her head cleared.
The tremor in her limbs disappeared and air flowed through her lungs unimpeded.
But from the mask there was a great void of silence. Osani’s face, just as white and aged as Argeon’s once was, did not appear. And the only time she’d worn Argeon since, his blackened face remained white; whatever Tantos’ death did to the mask itself, did not impact the way it appeared in her mind. Even so, she hadn’t been able to keep it on. An image of Tantos had appeared with Argeon, so strong, so real. She’d snatched the Greatmask off and switched to Osani.
The Cavallo mask was a mystery. His presence, vast, lurked beyond a wall of some manner. As if she’d been blocked from truly seeing him. As her father had attuned Argeon to the Falco House, so obviously, had Solicci ensured none but a Cavallo might use Osani.
But wearing Osani continued to banish the effects of lenasi withdrawal, and it wasn’t as if she knew how to use a Greatmask properly anyway. With a sigh she lay back, letting warmth from the fire set her boots to steaming while she waited for Notch.
“Sofia.”
She opened her eyes. Notch stood over her, holding out a bowl. She took it, blinking at the steaming food, accepting a spoon next.
“You fell asleep.”
Her head throbbed and her feet burned, but she raised the mask and spooned the hot meat and stew into her mouth nonetheless, pulling her feet in to cool. Rabbit. “Notch, this is pretty good.” She took another bite. The symptoms lurked, but while she ate, weren’t overpowering.
He laughed. “You’re just hungry.”
Sofia smiled around another mouthful. “So do you know anyone in Irihs?”
“Luik has a cousin there. If we cannot learn anything from the traders, we’ll find her.”
“Good.” She stood, collecting Osani and stretching her legs. “I can watch first, I’m wide awake now.”
“Good, I’m getting tired.” Notch scooped up a few more mouthfuls and unpacked his bedroll, laying it out after brushing sticks and stones from the ground. “Wake me when you get sleepy.”
She sat on a log, put her back to the fire and strained her ears. The darkness between pale tree trunks was still. Only the crackle of the flames and Notch’s breathing reached her. Osani was warm on her skin but distant. Again, she called to him without response. No doubt it would stay that way.
Father, if only Argeon could reach you...She straightened on the log. Why couldn’t he? She’d never tried, but maybe there was a way? Idiot. She had one of the most powerful objects in the world and she hadn’t thought to use it?
Tantos or no, she had to try.
Sofia crept to her bags. Notch stirred but didn’t wake. She took Argeon back to her seat and paused. Would her brother be there again? Or was it only the echo of him she’d seen before? No more hesitation. Sofia raised the mask. In the void Argeon was quiet, not restless as she often expected. Nor did the mad drive of Tantos lurk within, only Argeon’s vast calm. How to explain what she wanted? Nothing she’d heard or read about the masks suggested they could be used for scrying, but she had to try.
Images.
Her father in his robe, pacing the study. His stern face smiling, eyes creased. His laugh – so rare, but so loud. His arms lifting her into a carriage, his voice calling to Mother. Next, the question, but what image represented searching?
A rich gold splashed across the void – and beyond it, some hint of her father.
“Father? Is that you?”
Who speaks?
Was his voice deeper somehow? Sofia gripped her thighs. Had it worked? “Father, where are you – it’s Sofia.”
Young woman, I am not your father. Where are you – and what is wrong with your Novatura? The voice sounded agitated.
“Novatura?”
A sigh. Yes. Are you even wearing it, or just touching it? Is that why your voice is so faint? I’m sending someone to –
Sofia tore the mask from her face with trembling hands. Who was out there? She stood, drew her knife and crept between the trees, placing each foot in a deliberate step. She completed a circuit of the camp, heart thumping. Nothing. Sofia turned back to the fire. Should she wake Notch? No, there was no-one out there. Let him sleep. She turned back to the dark. No light, no sounds, no irritated voices.
Just who had Argeon connected her with? She raised the mask. Whoever it was seemed far away. Surely she was in danger? She placed the cool bone against her face. Be sure, Sofia.
Into the void she spoke. “Are you there?”
No response.
She tried again, and received the same silence. Even Argeon barely flickered his attention to her.
By the time Notch was due for his shift, she’d almost dismissed the voice. But she told him as he drank from his flask. “It felt distant. I don’t think anyone is close, but it seems worth mentioning.”
“Could you tell anything about the voice? It wasn’t Argeon or the Old One?”
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